


Secrets In Your Sleep

by londonbird



Series: All I Ever Wanted Is Here In My Arms [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Real Events, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Sleeptalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9920582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londonbird/pseuds/londonbird
Summary: Fernando comforts Sergio when he has a nightmare after a bad match.(The match where Real Madrid lost 1-2 to Sevilla in La Liga, ending their 40 match unbeaten run. Sergio scored an own goal which served as Sevilla's equalizer before Sevilla scored the winning goal in injury time.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in years and also my first fic in the football fandom. I really wanted to write about these two, and after the Sevilla match I finally knew which direction to go in.
> 
> Thank you to Rogue1987 and LindseyWells for your support ♥︎

“No… no no no”, Sergio mumbled before letting out a deep breath.

Fernando rolled onto his side, sighing quietly. He was in that semi-conscious state, neither fully awake nor fully asleep, where everything felt kind of hazy, and he was only vaguely aware of his surroundings. Was that Sergio’s voice he had just heard, or was he dreaming? He wasn’t sure. He tried to hold himself back and not drift off again just yet, listening to the silent room without finding anything unusual. So just a dream then.

Just to double-check, his arm stretched out to the other side of the bed, feeling around. It did not take long for it to find what it was looking for, connecting with soft, warm skin, and he sighed again, this time contentedly. He hadn't heard Sergio come back, he had tried to stay up for him but he'd been so exhausted from watching the match and all the emotions and feelings he went through during that he got to the point where his eyes refused to stay open.

Knowing now that Sergio was there made him feel relieved, it meant he hadn't gone and done anything stupid in the aftermath of the match; that was always a risk, that Sergio would do something he'd regret later while being fired up emotionally, both on and off the pitch. But it looked like today he rather wanted to sleep everything off, which Fernando approved of. Happy with this conclusion and sensing that it must still be the middle of the night, he decided to allow himself to go back to sleep, when suddenly, there it was again.

“No, I- nooo...”, Sergio started panting softly now, and if Fernando were looking at him, he could have seen his face contorting in a frown. “This can’t be happening!”

Fernando suddenly felt wide awake, a pang of sadness shooting through him as it became all to clear what Sergio was dreaming about. He aborted his attempt to go back to sleep, opening his eyes. Squinting at Sergio in the darkness he let his eyes adjust to the lack of light, and then he could see his outline, lying on his back, duvet pushed down to his hips, one leg tangling down the side of the bed.

It wasn’t the first time he witnessed Sergio talking in his sleep, in fact, he had found it to be a rather regular occurrence, mostly before and after important games, which only made sense considering how passionate Sergio was about football. It was way more than just a job for him, especially since he had become the team’s captain, everyone knew that. However, only Fernando knew he took it seriously enough to even re-live a match in his sleep sometimes.

Initially, neither of them would even be aware of Sergio’s nightly ramblings. He rarely woke up from them himself, and Fernando was also quite a heavy sleeper, it would take a lot more for him to get disturbed during the night. But there had been a couple of times where Sergio’s vivid dreams had caused him to wake up with a start, leaving him momentarily confused and disoriented and not even Fernando would sleep through that.

The first time, it had been awkward. Sergio had been really embarrassed to be sitting in bed in the middle of the night close to tears, craving comfort like a child, trying to pretend he was fine, while Fernando hadn’t quite known how to react. But as those dreams kept happening, Sergio realised that he couldn’t ignore them forever and that it actually felt good to get stuff off his chest sometimes.

Fernando was a great listener, rarely interrupting him or zoning out, no matter how long he went on about something. He always gave him the feeling that he was genuinely interested in what he had to say, even when it was just rambling, that it was important, that _he_ was important. And he always had some advice, never judging him, his thoughts or actions, which Sergio was so grateful for because it gave him that reassurance he didn’t dare to openly ask for, but really needed from time to time.

All of that made it a little easier to share whatever was haunting him with Fernando, as well as the feeling that it seemed to have strengthened their relationship even more. They’d loved each other for so many years, known each other even longer, which had allowed them to form a unique bond based on all the memories and experiences they'd been through together. But since they'd crossed that line from friendship to relationship, their mutual trust and understanding had moved to a whole other level that was bigger than anything else either of them had ever experienced. 

Still, Sergio didn't like to indulge in those moments too frequently, and that is why Fernando had almost come to relish them, as they allowed him to get a glimpse of Sergio’s softer, vulnerable, self-conscious side, a side he rarely ever showed others, not even Fernando. He took pride in the fact that he was able to get Sergio to open up to him, and in being the one person to provide Sergio with comfort in those moments of insecurity. But it also made him feel incredibly protective of Sergio, and as a result, Fernando had somehow started to develop a sixth sense which seemed to pick up on whenever Sergio was dreaming badly.

That must have been what woke him this time as well, he thought, as he inched a little closer in order to wake Sergio from his nightmare. “Sese”, he whispered, voice still hoarse from sleep. There was no reaction and so he tried again, fingernails lightly scraping Sergio's chest. “Sergio.”

Still silence, and Fernando was about to consider leaving it when, suddenly, Sergio kicked the duvet to the floor while simultaneously throwing his right arm to the side, only narrowly missing the nightstand. Fernando gasped, surprised at the sudden movement, but before he could do anything else Sergio finally jerked awake, probably stirred by his own actions. He sat up, blinking slowly while his brain was catching up with what had happened.

“What…?”, he asked quietly, looking at Fernando, trying to determine his surroundings. He managed to feel relieved for a second when he realized he was home, safe and sound in his own bed, but then it dawned on him and he swallowed hard. It was all coming back, his dream - he'd been back on the pitch, reliving the tragedy all over again, and his chest tightened when he realized the dream had been a replay of reality rather than some distorted nightmare fantasy. Sergio drew in a deep breath in the hope it would help him calm down, but instead his chest only seemed to get even tighter and he could feel himself shaking slightly as he was fighting the tears welling up behind his eyes. 

He was not in control of his feelings and he hated it, especially when he had managed to keep his cool for so long, all night in fact, in the locker room and he'd even spoken to some journalists. Playing it down, pretending like he wasn't that affected by everything when he'd already been on the edge before the match even started thanks to the crowd and the headlines, and when they were off to a slow start it didn't help either. Then Cris scored that penalty and they all thought that was it, that they were on the right track now, until things went so terribly awry. And it had all been his fault.

“Fuck.” He moved to press the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to suppress the tears that were still threatening to overwhelm him. His heart was racing in his chest as scenes from the match kept on flooding his mind, making it impossible for him to calm down. It was as if he was standing on the pitch again, he could hear the whistles and jeers of the crowd ringing in his ears, deafening, and the defeated looks of his teammates. No one had said anything but of course he felt the disappointment. Hell, he was disappointed in himself too.

They hadn't been playing well but they should at least have been able to hold onto the result until the final whistle. But he'd gone and ruined it, started that fateful chain reaction that threw them completely off their game and caused them to eventually lose in the end. He, who was supposed to be their leader, their savior, scoring goals at the last minute, not conceding them; getting the team out of situations like this, not causing them.

Anger started to course through his veins now, directed at himself for failing, for letting his team down, the fans, the coach, everyone. They had put their hope and trust in him and he'd thrown it away. He should have just stayed away from the ball, why didn't he see that he didn't even have to go for it, their striker had no chance of getting to it. It would have been fine. They would have been fine without him, without his constant need to intervene and take every matter into his own hands. Maybe he should really focus more, don't make any more rash decisions, be more level-headed. Take less risks.

But then again, when it didn't end in a disaster, people praised him for his type of play, his passion and fervor. They didn't mind his temper then, how he sometimes acted without thinking as long as he saved their asses with it. He frowned as he felt his feelings shift, no longer mad at himself but the others instead, for judging him, ridiculing him, not taking him seriously. He had given so much for the team over the years, shouldn't they be grateful to him instead? Or was he expecting too much?

Sergio didn't even know anymore, caught up in a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts, and it was finally too much. He gave in to the tears, quietly sniffling, his body trembling softly from the muffled sobs while he was slowly, but surely letting it all out. 

Fernando had watched the whole scene, initially taken aback by Sergio’s sudden outburst and the tears that followed. He hadn't seen him like that in a long time and he hadn't expected that kind of reaction even though maybe he should have. After all he had seen the match, and it wasn't that difficult to put one and one together. “Hey.” He sat up and wrapped his arms around Sergio's waist, resting his cheek against his shoulder blade. 

He immediately felt himself relax, as he always did when being so close to Sergio, and for a while he just stayed there, focusing on Sergio and trying to make him feel some of his own calmness. He didn’t want to say anything just yet, he didn’t want to ruin the moment that, despite the circumstances, had a peaceful feel to it. It felt like nothing else existed in that moment, just the two of them sitting in the darkness of their bedroom, holding onto each other. 

Sergio could feel Fernando's body against his, his cheek radiating warmth on his back and he automatically leaned back into the embrace. He tried to focus on Fernando’s breath that was lightly tickling his skin whenever he breathed out. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, the sensation on his skin as well as the realisation that Fernando was holding him so close, had wrapped himself around him in an attempt to comfort him and he hadn’t even had to ask for it. Fernando had done the right thing once again, had known exactly what he needed like so often and Sergio was so moved by it, another wave of emotion threatened to hit him and make him cry again, just when he had managed to calm down somewhat.

It was one of those moments where he was almost overwhelmed by his love for Fernando, still trying to process the fact that they were together, that they had really done that after all these years.

He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his hands, placing them on Fernando’s arms, slowly rubbing his thumbs over his wrists. It felt good to touch him, even in such an innocent way; always a confirmation that Fernando was really there, wasn't going anywhere. Sergio didn't know if it felt the same to Fernando, but he thought he could feel him smile against his back as he kept caressing his arms.

“Sorry for waking you up”, Sergio said then, finally breaking the silence. He could definitely sense Fernando smiling now before he pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Don't be silly.” His lips ghosted over Sergio's skin and then he rested his chin on Sergio's shoulder, lovingly gazing at him in the dark. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sergio wasn't sure whether Fernando was referring to his dream or the match, but it didn't really make a difference anyway. He knew Fernando had watched on TV, as they always did with each others’ games when their schedules allowed it, so he was at least up to speed with what had happened and could most likely guess what the nightmare had been about. He wouldn't have to fill him in about all the painful details, they could jump right into the conversation, get to the point. Except Sergio didn't really want to.

“What if I don't?”, he asked quietly, sighing, before turning his head to meet Fernando’s eyes. He just didn't feel like talking about it would make things any better, more like the opposite; he didn't want to keep going over what had gone wrong because it was pointless. The damage had been done and he'd bounce back anyway. He always did. They'd analyze the match with the squad, try to learn from their mistakes and improve their weaknesses. They'd train and work hard, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. It wouldn't change anything.

No, right now he just wanted to be with Fernando, feel the comfort of being close to him, enveloped safely in his arms. Enjoy the security of knowing that no matter what happened on the pitch, no matter how much he lost in football, he still won because he had this to come home to. He still loved football, of course, and he was proud of his achievements and wanted to win plenty more, but Fernando would always be the best thing football had ever given to him.

Fernando gave a little snort, tearing into Sergio's thoughts. “Then we won't.” He knew this wasn't a matter of Sergio deliberately shutting him out, hiding something from him, so he wasn't going to pressure him to talk. He’d been in situations like this himself and sometimes it was better to just swallow it and move on. When your mistakes were broadcast for all public to see, you didn't always have to discuss them at home too, the place that was supposed to be shelter, a safe haven. 

He raised his left hand and cupped Sergio's cheek. “Some things don't need to be said, anyway.” _Things like, It’s not your fault no matter how much it feels like it, You’re still the best, Even if you scored a million own goals I'd still love you._ He looked at Sergio, trying to convey all that with his eyes while gently wiping away the wet trail of tears with his thumb. 

Sergio could feel his heart hammer in his chest again as he searched Fernando's eyes for an answer, what he meant by that. And Fernando had been right, words couldn't have expressed what Sergio saw there, the warmth, unconditional love and faith in him, the unshakable belief that this wasn't more than a bump in the road, a small hiccup, something that would soon be forgotten in light of his next big achievement.

He felt relieved, at peace almost, another wave of affection hitting him and making his heart swell with love. Smiling faintly now, Sergio blinked before turning his head and kissing Fernando's palm, nuzzling against it. “You're… amazing.” He almost laughed, how cheesy that sounded and so plain, like he didn't even mean it. He wasn't really good with words. “I love how you take care of me. Make me feel loved.”

Fernando smiled at that while a tiny blush crept up on his cheeks for the compliment, still not used to hearing words like that out of Sergio's mouth even after months, maybe he'd never be. He stroked his fingertips over the bridge of Sergio's nose and his cheeks as if to confirm his words, caressing soft skin, a gesture of love.

“All I could think about after the match was getting back home to you. I knew you'd make it better.” Sergio’s lips moved from Fernando's palm on to kiss at his wrist. “I love you so much, Nando. So so much.” He almost sounded desperate now, like he was rambling to comfort himself or trying to convince Fernando of his words or maybe both, no longer knowing how to feel with so many emotions raging inside him, trying to claim him.

Fernando shivered, he could sense Sergio's turmoil and in combination with the feeling of that mouth against his sensitive wrist it created an intensity he could barely take. He gently retracted his hand, trailing it down Sergio's side as he lay back down again. “Come here.” His voice was soft, but determined as he stretched out his arm, indicating for Sergio to lie down next to him.

And he did, after quickly retrieving the duvet he had kicked to the floor during his dream earlier he curled up to Fernando, clinging to him with an arm across his belly, face buried in the side of his neck. He instantly felt comfortable, caught in a warm cocoon of duvet and Fernando, and he suddenly felt incredibly exhausted.

Sergio hadn't even felt that tired directly after the match or when he came home, his body still running high on adrenaline and emotions, which also explained why he'd drifted off into that nightmare. But now he felt his exhaustion hitting him like a wall, and he didn't have the strength to fight back, not with Fernando next to him, so warm and soft and comforting and keeping him safe.

He wanted to tell Fernando but the tiredness was already pulling him down into unconsciousness like weights strapped to his feet and so he gave in, blissfully dozing off with the tiniest sigh. Fernando smiled and placed a kiss on the top of Sergio's head. “Sleep tight, love. I'll be here when you wake up.”


End file.
